The Difficult Transition of #BlackLivesMatter from Spontaneous Protests to Racial Justice Movement

I've lately thought about and discussed the issue of racial justice with a number of different people. One thought keeps cropping up: what happens if the current collective outrage never translates to meaningful action? What if, like Occupy Wall Street around the world, the passion of millions of protesters fizzles for lack of cohesion, and their voices become no more than a paragraph or a footnote in the annals of history?

Here's a pithy, rather spare think-piece to get us started:

http://mic.com/articles/107382/black-lives-matter-must-move-beyond-protests-or-risk-losing-the-fight-for-racial-justice

People like to compare the recent Black Lives Matter demonstrations to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. They bear depressingly apt similarities, despite taking place fifty years apart; both protest the unequal treatment of African-Americans in this country, especially by the government or law enforcement. However, the most crucial difference between the two is: the Civil Rights Movement was carefully coordinated and led by a group of activist organizations, including the NAACP, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. A huge factor in their success was their ability to stage massive protests and rallies across the country over the course of many years, put forth specific and actionable demands, and apply sustained pressure on relevant politicians to meet these demands. This is virtually impossible for a movement without some form of centralized leadership.

The leaders of the Civil Rights Movement were far more than human embodiments of their cause. These men and women were organizers, negotiators, motivators -- and tragically, often martyrs, too. When Martin Luther King gave his famous "I Have a Dream" speech during the March on Washington, it was understood that he spoke with the collective voice of hundreds of thousands of demonstrators. Because he and his fellow leaders so clearly expressed what they were hoping to accomplish with the March, the government had no choice but to respond; indeed, King's speech and the March are historically credited with securing the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Black Lives Matter thus far lacks this level of specificity in terms of goals or action plans, in large part because it, like Occupy Wall Street, has no spokesperson with whom the government can negotiate. They are doing a good job of advocating for body cameras on police officers, but otherwise, have been unable to articulate or agree on a set of actionable demands, and would find it difficult to hold the government accountable for hypothetical promises to address said demands. These movements start by channelling the frustrations and desires of the people at large, but can only grow into effective organizations if they are willing to move on from 100% spontaneous, grassroots advocacy to a more centralized system. Not all members of the movement can be equal; there must be somebody vested with the authority to make decisions and speak for the group. Every democracy elects a leader -- a social movement can be no different if it is to be sustainable.

It's much like the crucial difference between rebellion and governance: rebellion is the tearing down of an unjust system, while governance is about building a just (and importantly, stable) system. Rebellion is the easy part; destruction requires much less long-term planning. Building something new -- whether a new piece of legislation or a new world order -- calls for a much more comprehensive vision, and the capability to slog through the unglamorous legislative and administrative processes of achieving it. Idealism isn't enough: it requires tenacity, compromise, and specific skills that the body of protestors are unlikely capable of collectively wield.

This is why Occupy Wall Street petered out. That particular movement had issues, from the outset, with accepting a central authority that could harness the energy of the protesters and direct it towards specific policy goals. Many protesters were too suspicious of any sort of authority, any hint of inequality of position or platform. They couldn't recognize, to the detriment of the cause, that there are many shades of nuance between spokesperson and dictator, that one would not inevitably morph into the other by some Delphic slippery slope fallacy. Elevating a few key protesters to a position of power might have seemed inegalitarian at the time, but would have helped transform a movement based on outrage and sheer emotion into an organization, which would ultimately have achieved a greater and more lasting impact.

This is a lesson I dearly hope that the Black Lives Matter movement learns. Idealism can topple world orders, but pragmatism and dirty hands can build one anew.

Jewliebots: Teaching Girls to Code, and Subverting Gender Norms, via Jewelry

There's been growing interest, in certain quarters, in addressing the dearth of women in technology. Since one of the important roots of the issue lies in the lack of girls pursuing STEM fields as students, improving STEM education and outreach in the early years is critical. To that end, two female entrepreneurs have developed an educational toy, Jewliebots, that taps into traditionally feminine interests, such as fashion accessories and overt peer bonding, in order to pique preteen girls' interest in computer science.

http://www.dailydot.com/technology/jewliebots-friendship-bracelets/

http://www.bustle.com/articles/52546-jewliebots-friendship-bracelets-teach-girls-to-code-would-make-christmas-shopping-much-easier

Much like GoldieBlox, a comparable product engaging girls in engineering-related play (most well-known for the company's successful advertisement during the broadcast of a major sporting event), Jewliebots incorporates coding components into toys that are otherwise quite feminine (pink!) in appearance and function. It integrates engineering concepts into otherwise normal-looking toys, making this type of learning a natural element of play for young girls. I find this encouraging (and practical) on the one hand, but also problematic, on the other.

On face, the rationale for this seems obvious: bridge the gap between boys' toys that cultivate interest in engineering and girls' toys that don't, by creating toys that look like girls' toys, but encourage the same sorts of skills that the boys' toys do. However, this approach carries an unfortunate side-effect of catering to and reinforcing gender norms (i.e. pink toys for girls, blue toys for boys). It all-too-easily leads to the segregation of male and female constructive play, the idea that girls' toys ought to be distinguished by clear visual markers and are somehow inferior to boys' toys. (You'd be hard-pressed to get a boy to pick up a pink toy, for fear of schoolyard ridicule, whereas it's much easier for a girl to be a tomboy and play with masculine-looking toys; the latter is sometimes seen as an upgrade in social status, whereas the former is almost universally perceived as emasculating.) This reinforces the problematic social norm of masculinity as superior to femininity, establishing early in children's lives a secondary class of "female engineers" separate from the extant pool of predominantly male engineers. By creating engineering-related toys that cater specifically to girls, Jewliebots engenders in young and impressionable minds the idea that girls who code are somehow "other" and different from boys who code. This is the sort of thinking that very likely leads to gender discrimination and pay discrepancies in the engineering field.

It's important to note, however, the power of incremental change. There is still great social pressure (from peers and from authority figures) for girls to conform to a certain outmoded understanding of femininity. In the same way that girls are told not to dirty their dresses climbing on the jungle gym and catching insects in the park, girls often subconsciously internalize the idea that engineering-related play is "unladylike," or worse, "not for you." As girls are conditioned to be more vulnerable to social pressures, the perception of doing something wrong or unacceptable discourages them from pursuing science and engineering. If, by subversively making engineering-related toys conform to certain acknowledged stereotypes about childhood femininity, we can make it more socially acceptable for girls to play with said toys, it's a step in the right direction. At least, it gets them thinking about possibilities they may never have entertained otherwise.

So, if you're doing your last-minute holiday shopping, and there's a young girl on your list, consider buying her an engineering-related toy, like Jewliebots or Goldieblox. (And of course, be mindful and supportive about teaching gender roles and social norms the other 364 days of the year.) You may very well change her life.

Melville House to Publish the Senate Intelligence Committee Report on Torture

This just happened. Melville House has outdone itself:

http://www.mhpbooks.com/press-release-melville-house-announces-publication-of-the-senate-intelligence-committee-report-on-torture/

The "Senate Torture Report," as the document is commonly known, is the product of a years-long investigation into the shocking and inhumane treatment of prisoners at the hands of the C.I.A., and the agency's vast attempts to hide its actions from both the rest of the government and the citizenry at large. It's a tremendously important work that shines a bright light on the evil that certain members of our public institutions insist, wrongly, is the price of preserving peace in our country.

Melville House, in the best tradition of letters in this democratic experiment we call the United States, is rushing to turn a heavily redacted, low-resolution, practically illegible set of images into a coherent and usable book by the end of the year. (Yes, that's in just a few weeks.) I can only imagine how chaotic and caffeinated their offices must be these days. But this is an important task. Without dissemination of information, democracy as we know it is meaningless. Only an informed public can truly self-govern in the way our forbearers intended.

Hats off to you, Melville House. What a way to close out the year.

The Economist: War Games as Pentagon Simulations

I played an excellent evening of board games not too long ago, and I was prompted to dig up this short but interesting article about wargaming:

http://www.economist.com/news/united-states/21599016-understand-war-american-officials-are-playing-board-games-war-games

This is a practice that hearkens back to the elite of ancient India, where the future military leaders of the Gupta Empire honed their skills on a recognizable predecessor of modern (Western) chess. The game was adopted by the Persians, the Islamic caliphate, and made its way into Europe. There were other, similar games, such as Chinese chess and the Scandinavian hnefatafl (sometimes called "Viking chess"), but none that achieved the international cachet that chess enjoys (the former is a more regional pastime, and the latter is practically extinct). "The sport of kings," as chess was often called, became a status symbol across many civilizations; skill at the game required not only a modicum of natural talent, but also much training, which was usually only accessible to those with the leisure to pursue it. It was only natural that most chess masters of old belonged to the military elite and ruling classes.

Modern wargaming adheres to much the same logic. It is a common pastime for ordinary citizens, to be sure, but it uses the same set of skills that chess was meant to hone in princes and generals. It stands to reason that the Pentagon would commission its own wargames -- now we have only to wait for them to appear in stores. One wonders: has military strategy been, like many other educational topics, been democratized?

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is what out dinner table looks like tonight:


At this point, our tradition is to substitute hotpot for turkey.


I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, with family and friends and much to be thankful for!

Half the Earth for Wildlife

Here's a fascinating thought experiment: what if we set aside half the planet for wildlife?

It sounds like a pipe dream, too radical to consider seriously; humans, after all, have spread into every comfortable corner of the earth, and our population will only continue to rise. But the eminent biologist and conservationist E. O. Wilson believes that it's the best way to preserve biodiversity on this planet, and that it can be done:

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/can-world-really-set-aside-half-planet-wildlife-180952379/

This would require, unsurprisingly, drastically reshaping the way we (as a species) consider the use of land and resources. Humanity has a fascination with the idea that we are the undisputed and rightful masters of the planet, that everything on this Earth is ours for the taking, consequences be damned. It's an incredibly shortsighted view, of course. From the first agricultural societies that learned to let certain fields lie fallow, to the English monarchs who decided to replant ship-worthy trees so that their heirs could build a navy to conquer half the world, to Theodore Roosevelt and his national parks, people have always recognized the value of safeguarding natural resources for future use and enjoyment.

E. O. Wilson's idea is really just taking the concept of a national park to a new level, albeit with judicious application of eminent domain and large-scale zoning laws. It wouldn't be the first time a government relocated groups of people in order to facilitate a greater national good, and this would be a much better cause than some of the previous incidences could claim. (I'm tempted to make some joke about flyover country, here.)

Even though the concept seems, in human terms, to be just a very large national park, its effect on our ecosystems is exponentially greater than that of our extant national parks. One mustn't underestimate the positive effects that uninterrupted migratory patterns would have on bolstering animal populations, especially those that are more sensitive to seasonal changes (and therefore more likely to be endangered in the first place). This scheme would revert, to the extent possible, a swath of land to its "original" state, before humanity molded it to suit our civilizations -- the state of nature, optimized for a balanced ecosphere. For all that we have done to alter the environment, that it would be possible to rectify the greater part of the damage we've caused in these parts, is itself no small feat.

We have reached a juncture after which the biodiversity of the planet will become increasingly more difficult to retain and salvage. Though Wilson's proposal is drastic, it is still, without a great stretch of the imagination, within our grasp. Some things are worth the cost -- surely the Earth is among them.

The New Yorker: Why Abraham Lincoln Loved Infographics

A (too) short, intriguing piece on the early history of infographics and data mapping:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/elements/2013/10/why-abraham-lincoln-loved-infographics.html

As a consequence of the way our brains perceive our surroundings, we humans are visual creatures with a knack for finding patterns (sometimes even where they don't exist, hence conspiracy theories!). It's easy to see why infographics would appeal to those of us trying to make sense of large amounts of information, like leaders considering their constituencies and commanders looking over battlefields. I'd wager that infographics first came about in the late 1700s not because of any lack of interest in the format, but rather because it was significantly more difficult to gather the data necessary to populate them! Once there were more reliable and timely reports of populations, troop movements, &c., it seems inevitable that somebody would have had the notion to display the information in a visually succinct fashion.

The Civil War, by virtue of its chronological place in history, was the first major American engagement after the advent of proper infographics; it stands to reason that Lincoln would have been delighted with this useful new instrument at his disposal. It's also worthwhile to note that the Union Army would have been leaps and bounds ahead of the Confederates in its ability to gather the type of data best suited to infographics. Not only did the North have access to decades of records, it also had by far more extensive postal and transportation systems. Lincoln's maps and charts would have been significantly more comprehensive than what Jefferson Davis had.

Lincoln's extremely detailed slave population map

These days, we have precisely the opposite problem. Information is much easier to come by -- so much so that we're constantly inundated by facts and figures in the news. Infographics have become, rather than a tool for aggregation, a tool for selection and analysis. (This is, of course, aided by technologies unfathomable in Lincoln's time.) We like charts and graphs because they speak to that ancient part of our brains that latches onto patterns, turning the night sky into constellations and the landscape into mythology. They shape a flood of information into a cohesive narrative -- and narrative is essential to how humans define who we are and how we fit into this universe.

As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words.

'Tis the Season... for Jack-o-Lanterns!

Earlier this month, a couple of my childhood friends and I made jack-o-lanterns! I hadn't carved a pumpkin in years and years, so I was a bit out of practice. Here are the finished products:

The first and second ones on the left are mine. I'm especially pleased with this one:

If you can't tell, it's a mini-Totoro! He's starting to wilt by now, but as you can see, he was cute when I first made him. :-)

Any Hallowe'en crafts in your homes?

The Most Beautiful Route from A to B

This is such a refreshing idea!

http://www.technologyreview.com/view/528836/forget-the-shortest-route-across-a-city-new-algorithm-finds-the-most-beautiful

It's a navigation app, much like Google Maps, but it takes users on the scenic route -- a welcome change.

I'll first caveat that for the most part, efficiency is a very good thing. When it comes to governments, corporations, public transportation -- it behooves the administrators to optimize for efficiency. But when it comes to the individual, there are many situations when one misses opportunities and inspiration by taking the most conventionally efficient route.

As a New Yorker, I'm the first to acknowledge that some of our subway stations, for example, are not up to scratch when compared with those in other cities. But there's an uncommon beauty to some of the cityscapes I've had the fortune to encounter in my years here. This is a view of an approaching train coming down the tracks, on a typical subway platform in the city:

And this is an evening view of the iconic Flatiron Building:

I'm a believer in stopping to smell the roses once in a while. I've had some of my best ideas while walking alone through the city, or people-watching from the window of a café, or even in a hot shower on a cold day. I find that beauty begets beauty, just as cunning design or sound judgment often prompts the same. The benefits of walking in beauty are often unseen and manifest subtly, so such pursuits are overlooked in the bustle of our lives. It's a shame, and I hope this algorithm helps users inject a little colour into their lives.

Future Library (Margaret Atwood, Denizen #1)

A library is growing in Norway.

The Future Library is a time-capsule project, of sorts. A thousand trees were planted in a Norwegian forest this summer, to be harvested in a century's time. Every year until the day of the reaping, a different author will be invited to contribute a story to this library. The catch? The story will remain unread until these trees are made into the paper on which these works will be printed. The writers who contribute towards the beginning of the century won't likely live to see their books published. And that's sort of the point. In a hundred years, none of the originators of the project will be around to see its completion.

It'll be interesting to see what authors end up participating. It takes a certain sort of writer to produce a work that will likely be published posthumously, and to be happy with having completed it, without any notion of where it might stand in public opinion or among literary critics. It's fitting that the first contributor to the Future Library is Margaret Atwood; a science fiction writer is likely to agree with the notion of art as time capsule for future generations.

http://www.theguardian.com/books/2014/sep/05/margaret-atwood-new-work-unseen-century-future-library

Her story about the "lost" Haida manuscript in the above Guardian article is particularly apt. Who knows how language might change in a century? We certainly think differently than our ancestors did in the early 1900s. We find references to iceboxes and horse-drawn carriages archaic, for example, and there are many words that have disappeared from common usage in the past hundred years. It begs the question of whether authors who are consciously writing for the future, without the preconditions of a contemporary readership, would choose to write differently. To what extent, after all, does art demand and audience?

I am reminded (as I often am) of the Percy Shelley poem "Ozymandias," as well as of Faulkner's Nobel acceptance speech. The Future Library seems simultaneously an endeavour without ego and perhaps the greatest projection of self-preservation instinct an author can have.

I suppose we'll have to wait and see.

Cover Spy

I've recently begun following a blog/Twitter account that's too much fun not to share:

http://coverspy.tumblr.com
http://twitter.com/coverspy

It's comprised of a team of "undercover" New Yorkers (though it has since expanded to other cities around the world) who report anonymously on what the fellow denizens of their home cities are reading in public. It's a little like Humans of New York, but even more anonymous; public readers are never approached by spies and usually don't know that they've been featured unless they happen to read the Tumblr or Twitter feeds and find that the short personal description accompanying the book cover matches them.

I've always been a bit of a Cover Spy. I tend to notice what my subway-riding compatriots are reading (and sometimes peer surreptitiously at the running headers on e-reader screens). Obviously, as someone in the publishing community, there is a natural inclination to pay attention to these things, but work aside, I find that it helps me keep a finger on the pulse of the city. There's usually a certain correlation between the books I see on the subway and bestseller lists or trending news topics. For example, there was a "summer of John Green" on the F train at around the time The Fault in Our Stars first hit theatres, and a spate of nonfiction about modern European history as the Euro crisis has been playing out.

But New York's cultural milieu is more than what's current or showing at the cinema. I often see people reading books you'd never expect at first glance; sometimes those are the most thought-provoking (teaches you not to judge a book by its cover, ha), like the guy in the power-suit reading Betty Friedan, or the little Jewish grandmother nose-deep in a science fiction paperback. I sometimes make up life stories for them in my head. I do.

Sometimes anonymity can be entertaining. Sometimes a title and author allow a moment of genuine insight. Until they catch you staring, and you have to awkwardly look away, or feign interest in something behind their heads.

The People's Climate March, a Recap

Over the weekend, I went to the People's Climate March. I went alone, one of more than 300,000 people who attended the New York City event (similar marches were staged in cities around the world), and was warmly welcomed by perfect strangers, from climate scientists to concerned parents pushing baby strollers. There was universally an acknowledgement of solidarity, of common and overarching cause. There was a determination that the United Nations should hear us, on the weekend of the Climate Summit.

The March spanned more than fifty blocks on Manhattan's West Side, from 86th Street down to 34th Street. I joined about halfway through, having rushed across the river from the Brooklyn Book Festival, which was unfortunately on the same day. I tried to document what I could; my batteries gave out partway through...

I took this photo from just outside the barricade; it gives a good sense of the density of marchers along the route.

Marchers flocked to New York from colleges and universities throughout the Northeast, bringing handmade signs, slick printed banners, and matching t-shirts. (You know it's a real campus group when it has special t-shirts!)

There were also members of a diverse array of disproportionately-impacted communities, from indigenous populations to farmers to anyone who happened to live in a low-lying coastal region, included most Hurricane Sandy victims in the tri-state area (an unsurprisingly well-represented group).

Activists of all ages carried signs and slogans, and looked pretty happy to be here. It wasn't just young, idealistic college students!

These marchers, though, look like young, idealistic college students... The "fill-in-the-blank" signs were handed out to marchers at the beginning of the day. There was a wonderful diversity of answers, from the indisputably factual to the unflinchingly personal.

There were some interesting pieces of green technology along for the ride. I was especially taken with this tiny solar-powered vehicle, which reminded me of a cross between a VW Beetle and a golf cart. (It was moving at slow enough speeds that children could clamber on.)

I fell in with a group of scientists, some of whom had come all the way from the U.K. to participate in the march. They had an incredible prop: an enormous rolling blackboard covered in real data. The evidence was clear, from more than ten feet away!

And of course, the scientists came prepared with clever exoplanet jokes.

This photo was taken towards the end of the march, as the afternoon was just giving way to early evening. As the lighting is lacking, the signs read "Tuvalu," "Save the Arctic," and "Stop the tar sands at the source." This was indeed the delegation representing the tiny Pacific archipelago of Tuvalu, which is in danger of being submerged by rising sea levels. Some of them probably came a very long way to be heard in front of the United Nations.

As for the media round-up, my favorite pieces about the March:

• The New Yorker ran an excellent article about the event, as well as a interview with the environmentalist and scholar Bill McKibben, one of the primary organizers of the March.
• The New York Times also covered the March, including audiovisual material that gives a great sense of the numbers and diversity of the marchers. A follow-up article provided deeper analysis of the economics behind climate change mitigation.

The U.N. appears to have gotten the message -- but it remains to be seen in the months and years ahead how seriously its member states take their new vows on climate action. It will require intricate policy and sustained initiative to see them through the vagaries of politics, of course. But no country can claim that its citizens do not care or will not be affected by climate change.

I Am Very Real: Kurt Vonnegut's letter on censorship

This week is Banned Books Week, which I am celebrating by reading The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. It's a book that has frequently been censored and banned for its critical treatment of religion (true), and, more laughably, for its misogyny and its depiction of polygamy and violence (these are all elements that the book portrays negatively). There are many writers who communicate eloquently on the subject of censorship, Atwood included, but I am particularly struck by the following letter, written in 1973 by Kurt Vonnegut to the man who burned his books:

http://www.lettersofnote.com/2012/03/i-am-very-real.html

We live, as Vonnegut points out, in a country that prizes and was indeed founded upon the ideal of freedom. Freedom of speech and of knowledge is enshrined in the very documents that form the fabric of our government. But true freedom only exists with unfettered access to information. It's horrible that teachers -- those who are responsible for the youngest, most impressionable members of our society -- would seek to restrict any child's learning.

Vonnegut rightly takes censorship as an insult -- to the writer, to the reader, and to the children who should be presumed intelligent and independent enough to read a work and think critically about it. A reader should be free to read -- and disagree with -- whatever she chooses. A reader who is never challenged by concepts that are difficult, disturbing, or opposed to her own perspective will never gain the rich education that reading offers, and will never learn to think for herself. No child should be denied that education on the whim of the adult at the front of the classroom.

And this is why Banned Books Week is important. It reminds us every year that this is an ongoing battle, that censorship still happens in this country, and that ignorance and bigotry must be fought at every juncture.

The Guardian: Beijing Pilots Recycle-to-Ride Public Transit Program

This seems like a clever idea and incentive structure to address a very specific recycling problem, that of discarded plastic bottles, which cumulatively represent a significant threat to the environment (see the Great Pacific Garbage Patch):

http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2012/jul/04/beijing-recycling-banks-subway-bottles

One of the crucial elements of any mass behavioral shift is the incentive structure. Unfortunately, the average human being's sense of morality or duty doesn't stand up well to repeat inconvenience, if the inconvenience in question doesn't tangibly benefit him. (People are generally willing to perform isolated acts of kindness or charity, even if against greater obstacles, in large part because these incidents seem out of the ordinary and don't connote repeat obligation.)

This system set in motion in Beijing has two obvious advantages. One is the instantaneous reward mechanism: the recycled bottles are converted to currency at the station, and the currency can be immediately used to ride the subway. It doesn't require the average person to go out of their way or alter their routine; it can be as simple as recycling your empty water bottle at the end of the day as you head home, or taking your recycling to the subway station in the morning when you leave for work.

The second is that it also incentivizes the transit authority (and thereby the municipal government) to more aggressively promote recycling. Prior to the implementation of this infrastructure, the transit authority would only be motivated to encourage recycling for environmental reasons; citizens' recycling benefited the PET recycling industry, but not the government. Now, because the transit authority would be earning money through this new program (funds which presumably help pay for operation and maintenance of the subway system), there is a direct incentive for the government to encourage recycling.

Obviously, there are some kinks to be ironed out, such as ensuring that the machines themselves operated efficiently and that the bottles collected would be processed at an acceptable environmental standard. As a collection mechanism, however, this seems like a great idea to promote environmentalism that also makes economic sense. I can't wait for the MTA to install some bottle-recyclers of its own; perhaps this would also reduce the number of track fire delays (usually caused by trash thrown onto subway tracks).

Confused Cats Against Feminism, a Tumblr

I found this gem of a Tumblr some weeks ago, and am compelled to share it here:

http://confusedcatsagainstfeminism.tumblr.com/

I love adorable kitten pictures as much as the next person, but it's always more satisfying when the cuteness packs a more substantial message. And substantial messages can come in small, witty, and terrifyingly adorable packages!

Satire can be one of the most potent forms of protest and political speech. It calls attention to the absurdities of the opposing side in a manner that, unlike serious and straightforward activism, doesn't trigger immediate backlash. Rather, by provoking laughter, satire disarms.

So enjoy these cats, and while you're laughing at their grammatical and logical inadequacies, consider that an alarming number of people really do hold similarly illogical beliefs about women and feminism. Perhaps, with time, persistence, and a large enough army of kittens, we can persuade them that women deserve the same rights and protections as men currently enjoy.

Philosophical Questions Every Day, a blog

Philosophy is often considered one of the academic subjects less suited for amateur study. There is a truly unfortunate cultural perception of its opacity and limited applicability -- that "real philosophers" are eggheads in ivory towers whom nobody else can access.

This is just blatantly untrue.

Anyone who enjoys thinking in the abstract and hypothetical, who considers their place in the world, who has opinions about right and wrong that they can justify, is interested in philosophy.

Enter this blog:
http://www.pqed.org

It poses excellent, thought-provoking philosophical questions about current events and mundane issues, and includes non-academic discussion of these topics. It's well worth reading.

In particular, it provides a good list of book recommendations for the layperson interested in philosophy:
http://www.pqed.org/2014/01/reader-question-what-can-i-read-to.html#more

A gem of a find. I hope it will increase awareness of philosophy, and mindfulness in general.

Surrealist Street Artist Inspires in Tehran

I've always enjoyed public art, from mosaics in subway stations to murals in parks. It lends spaces a sense of personality, shaped by the people who interact with the architecture around them as much as by the planners and architects who first conceived them. It makes a place look truly inhabited and a structure look alive, more so than a form designed purely for unobtrusive function would otherwise be.

Of course, there's often a more specific message behind public art -- the very nature of the beast lends itself to political and social expression. One might expect that public art in fraught environments would be more message-driven (even though the risk to artists is correspondingly higher). One often forgets that beauty, with no ulterior motive, can be a message in itself:

http://www.policymic.com/articles/90589/an-iranian-artist-is-beautifying-tehran-with-surreal-street-art

I hope this artist continues to create and inspire.

Thoughts on Burwell v. Hobby Lobby, Especially Ruth Bader Ginsburg's Brilliant Dissent

Like many of you, I am greatly disappointed, if not entirely shocked, by the recent Supreme Court ruling in the case Burwell v. Hobby Lobby. The decision was a Plessy v. Ferguson of our time, putting an already disadvantaged group, women, at the mercy of discriminatory organizations for superstitious and spurious reasons that should have no place in American public life. Unsurprisingly, all three of the female justices on the Supreme Court voted against Hobby Lobby.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg's scathing, legally scintillating dissent should itself vindicate our sex in the face of a risibly paternalistic ruling that presumes women incapable of making their own decisions about their reproductive health. I dare any of the (all-male) justices on the opposing side to produce a more compelling and well-reasoned argument than this:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/231974154/Ginsburg-Dissent

(It's worth reading the entire way through. Multiple times, if necessary.)

This ruling is a severe blow to women's rights in our country; the earlier comparison to Plessy v. Ferguson is no exaggeration. Under the guise of religious freedom, this Supreme Court decision sets a new precedent of "separate but equal" for employees of companies whose leaders believe that women ought to have less control over their sexual and reproductive lives than men do. Consider that Hobby Lobby is perfectly willing to cover Viagra, circumcision, and vasectomies -- but somehow simultaneously refuses to pay for IUDs and Plan B. This plainly demonstrates that Hobby Lobby is willing to participate in the funding of some forms of birth control and reproductive healthcare, so long as the recipients are male. The Court is essentially sanctioning corporate sexism.

The Supreme Court's majority opinion significantly undermines the credibility of the institution and the ruling, as it is laden with ignorance and misinformation about women's health, contraceptives, and even about Christianity itself. For example, intrauterine devices primarily work by preventing fertilization rather than by causing a woman's body to reject the implantation of an embryo -- which means that, even under the most conservative Christian understanding of "the beginning of life," IUDs do not negatively affect human beings with personal rights. Hobby Lobby therefore does not even have reasonable religious grounds in refusing to cover IUDs. For that matter, Hobby Lobby's 401K plans invest in some of the same medical device and healthcare companies that make the products Hobby Lobby objects to covering. This is blatantly hypocritical, and the five Catholic male justices who sided with Hobby Lobby should have seen right through it. This Economist article does an excellent job of deconstructing the hypocrisies and irrationality of Hobby Lobby's position:
http://www.economist.com/blogs/democracyinamerica/2014/07/hobby-lobby-and-religious-exceptions

Perhaps even more disturbing, though, is the majority's insistence that a corporation should be allowed to pick and choose the elements of the healthcare it is required to provide for its employees. So long as a corporation operates in this country, it ought to adhere to all of this country's laws, especially where they concern employees who are American citizens and who depend on these laws for protection. This savvy comedian, who spoke out about the Hobby Lobby case before the Supreme Court came to its decision, points out that much as citizens have to pay all of the taxes we owe even though we might not agree with every government function that our tax dollars pay for (such as the Iraq War), a company must similarly pay for everything it is legally bound to provide for its employees, regardless of its owner's personal beliefs:



Yes, I have strong feelings about this decision, as should all women and anyone who supports equal rights for women. Let's hope that, much as Plessy was followed by Brown v. Board, that a future Supreme Court will overturn this abhorrent, misguided ruling.

Cover-a-Week #39: "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King

Here's another ukulele video! It's another foray into more old-school material:



http://youtu.be/iPJV9PwKLLE

And as mentioned in the video, if you're a dancer in New York these few weeks, you should definitely check out Midsummer Night Swing!

Jazz Age Lawn Party

I haven't indulged in historical costuming for quite a while -- ever since I finished college, I haven't had much occasion to do so. Yesterday, however, I went with a contingent of friends to the Jazz Age Lawn Party on Governor's Island. The "party" is a twice-a-year festival celebrating the spirit of the 1920s in America, complete with a live jazz band, a dance floor, and merchants of all stripes -- from food vendors a cut above the ubiquitous to milliners, cobblers, and tailors. People dress up in their best Prohibition-era garb to picnic on the lawn. I had a lot of fun -- too much fun to take many pictures, considering it was definitely a photo-worthy event.

A photo of the jazz band and their vocalist, taken from the dance floor. You can see some of the garb, like that of the man wearing the beribboned hat and waistcoat, which was just excellent.

Two talented dancers (whom I don't know) performing on the dance floor. The Lawn Party was well-attended by people I recognize from swing dancing in New York. (Also, as is evident from the onlookers in the background, there were people who looked like tourists as well as people dressed for the occasion.)

This is the only picture of me that I have from the event, taken by my friend Mike. It doesn't afford the best view of the dress, which I found in a thrift shop for about $12. Aside from altering it for length, it required very little adjustment for the era; the pleats, the shimmery material, and the cut were all period-appropriate.

And this is a view of lower Manhattan from the Governor's Island ferry as we departed the festival. The skyline has changed in the past few years; the spire and glass facade of One World Trade still takes some getting used to. But this is still New York, still beautiful, and still home.

An Extremely Literary Week: BEA, Housing Works, and Shakespeare

I have just had possibly the most literary week of my life (outside of majoring in English at university), and it was spectacular. Here are some of the highlights:

BookExpo America

This is the annual trade fair for publishing in the US (which also attracts a lot of foreign exhibitors). As I did last year, I borrowed a pass from one of my coworkers and attended the fair for a few hours on Thursday. I got to gawk at the exhibits, catch up with some former colleagues, and grab a pile of galleys that I'm very excited to dive into (not literally):

And parked right in the Javits Center was the Penguin truck!

The moment I spotted this reminded me of being seven years old again, watching the ice cream truck come around the corner. (Maybe I was a weird kid.)

Housing Works Book Fair

Over the weekend, I volunteered at the Housing Works Book Fair. It's a great organization -- all proceeds from the bookstore go towards combating homelessness and AIDS. They have a street fair every summer where used books and media are sold very cheaply ($1 books!), with food, live music, and other festivities. There were pavilions full of books, which I was helping stock:

And at the end of the day, there were still boxes upon boxes of books remaining, so we constructed a great wall of books along the sidewalk (from which the books were loaded onto a truck):

Shakespeare in the Park

Tonight, my friend Deb won tickets to Much Ado About Nothing, the first play of this summer's Shakespeare in the Park. I adore Shakespeare, and though I've entered the lottery for (free!) tickets many times, I've never won. I was thrilled to finally be able to partake of this New York summer tradition, and it was every bit as excellent as I expected. I'd forgotten how funny Much Ado About Nothing really is (I read it years ago), and it's so much better live than it is on the page. I can't wait for King Lear during the second half of the season!

And that was my week. I'm looking forward to more literary pursuits in the coming months!

A Mop Dog Bouncing Gloriously on the Beach

Summer is almost upon us, and I can't wait to head to the beach. But meanwhile, here is a creature who is even more excited about the beach than I am:

It's technically called a Komondor, but "mop dog" is much more descriptive...

That is all.

Cover-a-Week #38: "Cannonball" by Damien Rice

Here's another cover!



http://youtu.be/U7Nsn_lWOLI

I've listened to both the original song and Vienna Teng's cover, and I must confess that I like Vienna's version better. (Really, I just like her voice more than Damien Rice's.)

P.S. -- More amazing channel stats: I have over 10,000 views total, including 1000+ views of "Finite Simple Group (of Order Two)" and 2000+ views of "Take Me Home, Country Roads." I am astonished, and more pleased than I probably should be.

io9: Parenting for Science

I found this story, wherein a professor experiments on his children, hilarious and a bit inspiring (such dedication to the scientific method!), which probably means that I shouldn't reproduce anytime soon...

http://io9.com/questionable-parenting-science-the-tickler-1558053188

Unsurprisingly, this happened two or three generations ago, when it was more socially acceptable for a psychologist to perform experiments on his young and unsuspecting kids in the name of science. (Then again, my father likes to recount the behavioral "experiments" he performed on us when my sister and I were small -- though they were neither as rigorous nor as scientific as Clarence Leuba's.) I'm surprised, though, that his wife was willing to go along with it! Usually, the more responsible parent has veto power over harebrained ideas involving the shared children.

This makes me wonder how many other scientists' children have had rather unorthodox upbringings that have contributed to scientific research. (I read recently in a biography of Alfred Loomis that quite a few members of his extended family, and even occasional house guests, were drafted as test subjects in his experiments.) I hope that in most of those cases, parental instinct would have tempered any potential for lasting damage...

Cover-a-Week #37: "Ivory Tower" from Tripod versus the Dragon

This is my favorite song from the musical comedy Tripod versus the Dragon, which I recently watched at the behest of my friend Deb:


http://youtu.be/e_vkU6ZOI9w

It's a clever musical about Dungeons and Dragons, and it has some great songs. What's not to love?

(Also, I look particularly bewildered in the still frame...)

R.I.P. Rizzoli Bookstore

As the bibliophiles and New Yorkers among my readers might have heard, the city's iconic Rizzoli Bookstore is being evicted from its iconic Midtown premises, to be replaced by a luxury high-rise. Despite petitions and protests, this historic location was denied landmark status on a pure technicality; the bookstore is housed in what used to be a piano showroom, with vaulted ceilings and massive cast-iron chandeliers that make visitors feel as though they've stepped into the pages of history. (Appropriately, Rizzoli is known for its stock of art books.) Today was the store's last day in business, and it feels a bit like the end of an era.

There's been an outpouring of grief and outrage on the internet, unsurprisingly. One of the most moving  and articulate pieces about Rizzoli is this rather personal New Yorker article by Jon Michaud:

http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/books/2014/01/rizzoli-and-selling-books-to-madonna

It recalls an almost Gatsby-esque old New York, doesn't it? (And of course, the pictures are stunning.) I love the idea -- and it's more than a mere idea -- of a bookstore as the sort of village that raises exemplary young adults. It seems to be a recurring theme both in literature (Christopher Morley and, more recently, Robin Sloan come to mind) and in real life, and it saddens me to think that such an education might no longer be available to coming generations.

I will have more thoughts on this later, I'm sure. For now, though, allow me to wallow.

Cover-a-Week #36: "The Rainbow Connection" by The Carpenters/The Muppets

A while ago, I got a new ukulele -- a beautiful Kamaka tenor. This is my first video with the new uke:

http://youtu.be/9oxouJq2Q1o

Isn't it a wonderful instrument? :-)

Thoughts on Higher Education, Opportunity, and Systemic Inequality

Education is one of the cornerstones of the American Dream. As a society, we have come to see it as the great equalizer -- a mechanism that, however imperfectly, levels the playing field for children born into different socioeconomic backgrounds and allows individuals to achieve based on talent and effort, rather than on circumstance. This is universally seen as a social benefit. However, the way we discuss education as a culture requires more nuance, particularly with respect to disadvantaged students. This article in The Atlantic raises some interesting and thoughtful points:

http://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/01/the-danger-of-telling-poor-kids-that-college-is-the-key-to-social-mobility/283120/

It occurs to me that there are several different but intersecting camps of people who value education: those who see knowledge as a tool and those who see knowledge as a goal; and those who pursue knowledge for themselves and those who pursue knowledge in the interests of the broader community. I conceive of it something like the below (and pardon the primitive ASCII graph):

                    | Self                  | World                      
Theoretical  | Truth              | Intellectual Discourse
Applied       | Advancement | Social Change          

In theory, anybody should have the option of choosing any of these four paths (or even multiple paths, if they can manage it) without being told that one is better or more applicable to their situation. It's problematic that a vast population of American students is steered towards the "applied + self" box simply because of the circumstances of their birth. It's inherently unjust, even if it makes sense (especially within the Andrew Carnegie model of the American Dream) that a talented child growing up poor would prioritize climbing the socioeconomic ladder over other intellectual goals, especially compared to an equally talented child growing up in better conditions, for whom such advancement is not as crucial. The latter child is more likely to pursue one of the other three options simply because she wants to. The former child, however, faces significant societal pressures to choose "applied + self," even if she would have chosen one of the other three if fully informed and separated from external influences. After all, people tend to perform better in fields they find genuinely interesting.

This is a fundamental problem because it allows us to perpetuate -- and feel justified in perpetuating -- the systemic limitation of the free will of an entire population of our most vulnerable citizens, disadvantaged youth. It's similar to the idea: "People vote with their stomachs. Only when they are full do they vote with their minds." Just because, in practice, education allows the hungry to fill their stomachs, does not mean that education should be sold to the hungry as a means to fill their stomachs, while it is simultaneously sold to the well-fed as a means to enrich their minds. This, in itself, is a pernicious way that children of different family means are treated unequally, a way that is thus far completely sanctioned within our society. Rather, a truly just society calls for informed and educated citizens who freely choose their life's paths, and whose progress down those paths is determined not by how far behind they started, but rather the distance they are able and willing to walk -- and this will only happen when all children start on a more level field. All students should be allowed to pursue the path they find most rewarding, and to have their successes and failures reflect upon their own effort and talent, rather than on conditions beyond their control. And all students should have the opportunity to make an informed and unencumbered choice for themselves, out of the posited four, at the beginning of their journeys.

Three Minute Photoshop Makeover, the Music Video

I've watched this video a few times this week, in part because the music is catchy, but mostly because its message is powerful:



http://www.policymic.com/articles/79585/watch-this-woman-get-a-complete-photoshop-makeover-in-3-minutes-flat

Body image, especially that of young women, has become increasingly prominent in our social discourse over the past decade or so. There's been, at one end, greater awareness of eating disorders and related insecurities; on the other end, there's been significantly wider recognition of this country's obesity problem. The former is often associated with standards of beauty as dictated by media and peer interaction, while the latter is often a consequence of economics and the vulnerability of children who don't know any better than to consume what appeals to them in the short term (and the adults who were raised that way).

This video deals with the former problem -- that of media perpetuating impossibly exacting ideals, which millions of young women attempt to imitate in real life, without the aid of Photoshop. While a proportion of the changes depicted can be accomplished with cosmetics, other changes, such as altering the symmetry of the singer's face, is not something that women can physically achieve. And while humans are instinctively more attracted to symmetrical faces with higher contrast, one cannot expect a mathematical level of symmetry in our natural, imperfect bodies.

We are visual creatures. When introduced to a pair of images, we all have opinions as to which one we find more aesthetically pleasing. But we, through millennia of civilization and progress, are more than our basest instincts, more than our visceral reactions. We are rational and more evolved creatures who value each other for qualities greater than appearance. While it makes sense for us to make reasonable attempts to look pleasing to others, our society now has the tools with which to project images that are unreasonable to imitate. The crucial part here, then, is to ensure that we all recognize that it would be unreasonable to expect each other, and ourselves, to look like that.

We are none of us aesthetic ideals. Even models, actors, beauty queens -- even those we have collectively deemed the most attractive specimens of our species -- have their own insecurities. We must learn, in our most vulnerable and susceptible years, that we are valued not for how closely we conform to our society's standards of beauty, but rather, for our contributions in areas deeper and more within our power to shape. In appearances, we are limited by genetics, by environment, by the hand we are dealt. In what lies beneath, we are bound by fewer and less arbitrary constraints.

Moreover, we cannot take it with us. At the end of the day, it's all transport. We keep the engine primed and the moving parts oiled so that we might achieve more, and live more happily, in our time. The parts of us that are not flesh -- these comprise what we have made of ourselves.

On another note: this video is a testament to the power of activist art. Slogans and speeches will only get us so far, after all. In order to effect change, people must want the change themselves -- and one of the most effective ways to influence somebody's viewpoint is by creating empathy and emotional connection. As much as I believe in solving problems rationally and logically, there are many situations where the visceral reaction evoked by imagery is a more powerful motivator. As Lincoln famously said to Harriet Beecher Stowe, "so you are the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war!"

Eleanor Catton on Literary Elitism, Some Thoughts

I recently read this year's Man Booker Prize winner, The Luminaries by Eleanor Catton. It's a sprawling epic of a mystery novel set in Australia during the gold rush, and brings together a large cast of close third-person characters. It's tremendously ambitious and very well-written, though to me, it seems a little "constructed" -- in large part due to the constraints of its narrative structure, which assigns each of the viewpoint characters an astrological symbol, and bases each chapter on an astrological interaction.

I then found this article that Catton wrote on elitism within the literary community -- a topic I've discussed quite a few times with people in the publishing industry, with fellow English majors, and with people who are enthusiastic readers but not involved with such communities:

http://metromag.co.nz/metro-archive/eleanor-catton-on-literature-and-elitism

Catton writes eloquently on the subject of literary criticism, and the idea of critics and qualified tastemakers in general. Her biases are, of course, obvious: she's the winner of a major literary prize, and a product of the MFA (Master of Fine Arts) system, which teaches what is considered serious literature.  (I have some of my own pet peeves with that school of thought, one of which is their rather rigid definition of what might be considered "serious literature" -- often snubbing genre fiction of equal quality -- but that's neither here nor there.)

Biases aside, Catton makes some excellent points. There is a difference between quality as discerned by a critic -- presumably someone well-educated and qualified specifically for the role -- and enjoyableness as experienced by the lay reader. That's part of the value of a degree in literature, after all: the ability to recognize quality and to critique. (That's not to say that only English majors are qualified to write novels, or that all novels are written by English majors -- it's merely that, statistically speaking, such an education is more likely to confer the necessary skills.) Also, it's less a matter of creation as it is of appreciation. There's always a context, an artistic tradition, in which a work of art is produced, and it's a critic's job to bring her knowledge of said context to bear when judging the merits of the piece. In the case of prizes, that's especially true: the only way to evaluate a novel as "better" or "worse" than any other novel, given the subjectivity of the reading experience, is to view it in the context of greatness, meaning, and technical mastery as established by the books that came before it. Obviously, any individual critic might have, say, a penchant for Shakespeare and a gripe against Dostoevsky -- personal preferences that color her judgment -- but across many readers, scholars, and thinkers over the centuries, "the canon" has generally been tested and found to be a functional measure of quality.

These books are not necessarily the most "enjoyable" to read -- in fact, many of the best books are, to a certain degree, difficult. They require a level of thought and engagement from the reader that makes the experience that much more rewarding. After all, art is in many ways a conversation -- with its creator, with all the art that preceded it, with its audience, and with the criticism and study that it engenders. People these days -- Americans, especially -- are culturally obsessed with the idea of genius, of creation springing forth like Athena from the mind of Zeus, without taking into account the foundation (personal or societal) laid in preparation for the act of creation in the present. (I've previously written about this here.) Just as a writer -- an artist in any medium, really -- learns the craft by studying the greats, so too should an informed and conscientious reader strive to be a better appreciator and critic by putting in the work to understand a novel in its proper context. Only then can the reader really evaluate the book, whether her reaction is positive or negative, or (most often) somewhere in between. A thoughtful and articulate negative criticism of a book, I find, usually requires the deepest literary background, because the critic must develop a good sense of what the book and its author were attempting to do, and where the work fell short, as compared to literary masters who did it well.

Anyway. This is a topic of particular interest to me, so I expect to revisit it later. Also, I imagine it won't go away anytime soon, so there will probably be more articles, and more perspectives, that catch my eye.

Sochi 2014: Where can I buy a rainbow flag?

I've been watching the Winter Olympics this weekend (mostly for the figure skating, which is wonderful). I've also been keeping abreast of Putin's crackdown on LGBT rights and the subsequent displays of pride and solidarity from other countries. Here's an excellent little video by The Guardian, wherein a number of British celebrities learn how to say "Where can I buy a rainbow flag?" in Russian:

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/video/2014/feb/07/learn-russian-protest-anti-gay-laws-sochi-winter-olympics-video

Neil Gaiman! Stephen Fry!

Because damn it, Putin, you're not going to bring Russia into the twenty-first century without some twenty-first century values -- among which are equal rights for all citizens, including gay ones. (Yes, we have a ways to go on this issue in the US as well.)

"Borges and I" by Jorge Luis Borges

I was just rereading one of my favorite short stories, and I wanted to share it with all of you. It's a very short piece called "Borges and I" by Jorges Luis Borges, and may be found here:
http://www.sccs.swarthmore.edu/users/00/pwillen1/lit/borg&i.htm

It's not precisely a story, and it's so short that it might qualify more as flash fiction or microfiction -- or perhaps not any sort of fiction at all. I first encountered it, that I can remember, in a philosophy of literature course at university. Even then, I was awed by the way the piece conveys all the meaning of an essay in just a few paragraphs. It's stayed with me, the idea of the human being as a vessel for the creative spirit, much like Athena in the skull of Zeus.

In particular, there's the line "I live, let myself go on living, so that Borges may contrive his literature, and this literature justifies me." I find that over the past few years, I've appropriated that term, "justify," for my own use when thinking about creative output, human identity, and self-worth. It's a particularly powerful word in that it demands an answer. A person spends a lifetime striving for that answer -- especially artists, philosophers, creators, and others who feel the need to pursue goals greater than themselves.

It also introduces, in just a few turns of phrase, the dichotomy of solitary creation and human experience. Art is usually a form of commentary and a crystallization of ideas -- even if the artwork and the artist espouse no agenda nor any overt message. Good art requires some understanding of the themes and cadences of human existence, of living our lives on this planet. And yet so often, when an artist in the act is not experiencing anything new of the outside world; rather, he experiences himself in the act of creation. So, in one flesh and one mind, there must be some rub between the human being who lives and learns, and the artist who creates. Is it, then, the artist's fate to oscillate forever?

Just some food for thought, going into the new year. (The lunar New Year was this weekend.)

Cover-a-Week #35: "Seasons of Love" from Rent

It's 2014, and I haven't posted fifty-two covers yet... so I figured I'd just keep making these videos! This one's belatedly holiday-themed...


http://youtu.be/eHQxDfC39BY

Also, given the previous post, I thought it rather appropriate. :-)

La Bohème at the Met Opera!

A few friends and I got rush tickets to the Metropolitan Opera's production of La Bohème yesterday. I've never seen it live before (even though I have three different recordings on my computer). It was absolutely worth the experience; the show was spectacular. I can't believe what I've been missing. (Rodolfo's character, especially, tugs at my heartstrings.)

It's always interesting listening to music with lyrics in a language I don't know, because so much more of my understanding depends on the vocalists' interpretations of their parts. (The Met Opera has electronic panels on the back of each seat displaying translations of the lyrics, but I tried not to rely on that, because watching the staging of the production is a huge part of the experience.) You can always get a rudimentary understanding of what's going on, because there's enough overlap between the various Romance languages (though that leaves German lyrics nigh impossible), but the nuances are really up to the vocalists, in their facial and body language down to the minute inflections of their lines. For instance, in this production, the audience could tell in the first act the exact moment when Benoît loses control of the situation at Rodolfo's apartment -- you could tell by his posture and the vocals of the other characters how inebriated he was getting.

Another element I've noticed: it's hard for any stage performance to adequately develop character, because it's constrained to about two hours, and there's only so much of each character that the audience gets to see. I do like how -- other than the marketplace scene -- Puccini doesn't include any group or choral numbers. The opera focuses narrowly on the lives of the six central characters -- and really only three or four of them are developed at any depth; the small cast lends it a sense of intimacy that you don't often see in some of the larger, more traditionally theatrical operas in the repertoire. It would be a good choice for an indie opera house -- I'm not surprised that Rent (a very creative update on La Bohème where everyone dies of AIDS instead of tuberculosis) remained an Off-Broadway production despite its success.

Now I really must see Rent. I missed both the original production, which closed when I was in high school, and the revival, which went dark quite recently. (I have the soundtrack to that, as well, and I do like how Jonathan Larson includes so many nods to Puccini.) I've heard mixed reviews of the film, but one of these same friends is organizing a screening of the original production -- I'm super excited! :-)

Free Will and Nuclear Winter

I've been thinking, lately, about free will -- and I recalled this article that I read last year. It's a good, concise analysis of causality (particularly the bits about levels of complexity), and addresses some of the fallacies of breaking down human behavior into ever-smaller constituent components:

http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science/2013/09/free_will_debate_what_does_free_will_mean_and_how_did_it_evolve.html

The question is a version of "are we more than the sum of our parts?" Many people attempt to derive an answer from religion, espousing a concept of "soul," a metaphysical quantity that science is -- by definition -- unable to prove or disprove. But in the absence of such a belief, are we not just collections of atoms? Isn't each of our thought processes a mere chemical reaction in our neurons? It's a chilling way to think about ourselves; the idea that there is only one possible course of events because our actions are governed by a set immutable physical laws, that each circumstance leads logically into a specific next circumstance, is essentially a secular version of the idea of fate or predestination.

But there's a scientific argument against fate: the multiverse. If there is an infinite number of possible universes, infinitely many points at which one universe becomes multiple, then there isn't one logical state for the universe at any given point in time. The possibility of parallel universes implies, if not conscious choice at all times, then at least many possible outcomes, none of which are certain to happen. Quantum physics likewise deals with uncertainty -- with thought experiments such as Schroedinger's Cat, in which a situation manifests both possible outcomes simultaneously. Science, it appears, disproves fate.

Then, there are situations like this one, in which one person's choice, a split-second decision in a situation of incomplete information, may have prevented all-out nuclear destruction:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-24280831

Given a circumstance like this, it's hard not to believe in free will. I'm sure that there's a parallel universe out there in which the world ended on September 26, 1983.